


With Some Help From Mrs. Hudson

by Lothlorienne



Series: Tumblr challenges [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-02
Updated: 2012-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-30 12:51:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothlorienne/pseuds/Lothlorienne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John don't seem to get along... but mrs. Hudson can fix that. It gets a bit cracky but I ain't bovvered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Some Help From Mrs. Hudson

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Mike had mentioned that this man, the  _possible flatmate_  was a bit odd, but this was far beyond eccentric. This person seemed to have some sort of obsession with death. There were posters of skulls on the walls, on the mantelpiece John could spot another skull – though it looked like a very good replica, and it couldn’t possibly be an  _actual_  human skull, as John reassured himself. There were knives stuck in the wood of the mantelpiece as an eerie alternative for plants, there were quite a few bullet holes in the wall John was facing, and he could spot a mysterious, dark stain on one of the carpets. It looked an awful lot like dried blood.

The  _possible flatmate_  himself didn’t make up for all this. His behaviour was extremely uninviting. From the moment John had walked through the door, he had felt that there was something off about this man. The doctor had introduced himself, as it is expected from strangers. He had noticed how the other man had taken his time to look at both John’s hand and the inside of his sleeve, however short and subtle this observation had been. He had not offered John a drink. While showing John the kitchen, the tall man stood against the fridge door and John had felt as though Sherlock wanted to protect whatever he had stored inside that fridge. Paranoid much? Why would John want to steal his food?

The past half hour had felt far too much like a police inquiry. The tension between the two men was palpable. Every now and then the strange man would give John a remark or ask him a question, to evaluate whether he would be the right man to share a flat with. John felt like none of his answers were the right ones, the way the other man had squinted his eyes and pushed the palms of his hands together, nodding silently while listening to the hesitant replies. It was as if he wasn’t paying attention to the words at all, rather focusing more on John’s body language and the way the man uttered his words, instead. This made the latter feel quite uncomfortable. It reminded him of the mandatory psychological evaluation after a his return from Afghanistan. He didn’t like this analysis one bit, and shifted once more in his seat, trying to remember which position would come across as relaxed. Sherlock had not bothered with small talk. His questions were… unusual. They had somehow started talking about the length of John’s toenails, and the doctor couldn’t wait to get away from this strange individual. John knew this would not work out. The flat was nice, but it seemed like he’d just have to look for another place.

He heard the door open and looked up. Mrs Hudson – the friendly landlady, he remembered – came in, carrying a tea tray. She greeted the two men with a warm smile, which seemed to make the atmosphere a bit less tense. John couldn’t help but smile back, thankful for her presence. He noticed how the other man reacted to his behaviour, and realised he had now fully blown his cover. He couldn’t possibly feel at ease while being alone with this man, and they must’ve both realised this was a lost cause. Too bad the motherly landlady was already pouring tea in two floral cups. Now he’d have to waste more of his time here.

The two men were sitting awkwardly in their seats, faced towards each other but not facing each other, with a respectable distance in between. Mrs. Hudson laughed. “Well, come on, you two. Drink your tea, keep chatting. Don’t mind me, I’ll be off again.” She turned around and went back to the stairs. When she noticed the two still weren’t moving, she nodded, encouraging them. “Go on then! Drink the tea. It’s really good. I made it just for the two of you.” After a short moment of hesitation, out of politeness, John reached out to take one of the cups off the tray. With the saucer in one hand, he brought the cup to his lips and took a careful sip. He made a pleased humming sound and nodded, then curled his mouth into a gentle, appreciative smile. “You too, Sherlock,” Mrs. Hudson said, with a wink. He, too, wrapped his long fingers around the cup and quickly drank it all at once, as if to say:  _Are you pleased now?_  The woman simply smiled a wide grin before she left the room and went back downstairs. Eager to go, John decided he should empty his cup as quickly as possible and then just leave. Following the example of Sherlock, he quickly swallowed the sweet, herbal-scented content of his cup.

Mrs. Hudson waited fifteen minutes before going back up again. When she entered the flat, she found the two men now sitting comfortably beside each other, laughing freely and chatting about the “crazy wallpaper”. She smiled as she entered the room. “So, I guess you like him then, Sherlock?” she asked innocently.  
The man was giggling too much, and it took him a few seconds before he could answer her question. “I do!” he exclaimed, “I really do. I think I’ll keep him.” Amicably, he draped one arm around John and pulled him closer. The other man replied with a “daaahw”, and patted him on the cheek.  
“Lovely,” Mrs. Hudson said, the glee obviously showing on her face. “Would you boys like some more tea? I’ve baked brownies, as well.”  
“Mrs Hudson, that would be lovely.”  
She winked at the pair of them before going downstairs again.


End file.
